Rosy Cheeks and Charcoal-Covered Hands
by galianogangster
Summary: The one where the new life drawing model undresses in the middle of the bathroom instead of in the stalls.
1. Chapter 1

"I have five minutes before class starts, I'm not taking you."

"That's plenty of time!"

"Mal, just walk."

"Carlos, have you been outside?! It's so hot I might actually melt before I get there!"

"You're being dramatic."

"You're being unreasonable!"

"Just stay in here until class gets out then," Carlos suggests.

Mal scoffs at the suggestion.

"What am I going to do for two hours, Carlos?" she asks, eyebrows raised.

"Not walk back to the dorm, apparently," Carlos chuckles.

Mal's lower lip juts out.

"Mal, you'll be fine," he assures, hand resting on her shoulder momentarily. "Just go on your phone or something," he offers, brown eyes leaving green to glance at the clock perched in the hallway. "See you after class!"

Mal remains in the same position, staring at the floor, for an undetermined amount of time. It is long enough that all of the students have made it to class, even the stragglers that attempted to sneak in late. It feels like an eternity, but perhaps she does have a flair for the dramatic. She probably got that from her mother. Her footsteps echo through the now empty hall as she approaches the lounge located at its end. The door is already open, as usual, so she walks right into the room and unceremoniously drops all of her weight into the most comfy looking chair. Her body sinks further into the cushions than she anticipated, and she lets out a rush of air. It does not take her long to locate the cellphone in the pocket of her favorite leather jacket, and she lets her sketchbook fall into her lap in favor of holding the device with both hands. She leisurely scrolls through social media, desperately hoping someone posted something interesting.

This isn't so bad; at least she is holed up in the only building on campus that seems to make proper use of its air conditioning. There is _no_ way Mal is going back outside. The walk back to the dorm she shares with her friend Carlos is not too terrible-about fifteen minutes of walking or much less in a vehicle. However, she had spent no more than three minutes walking between buildings today, and she is pretty sure the sun's unforgiving rays evaporated her sweat before it even had the chance to emerge from her pores. That's how that works, isn't it? Maybe she _is_ being dramatic...

Mal's finger taps the weather app to see how much she is exaggerating, and she is met with a much darker version of herself. "No, no, no!" Mal mutters, pressing various buttons to attempt to revive the phone. "Shit!" she whispers. She presses her hands against her face and takes a deep breath before placing the now useless device back into her jacket pocket. It's cool. No problem. She can find something else to do. It has already been - she glances up at the clock - eight minutes.

Going through the recycling only earns her a few laughs. Art students are notorious for throwing away projects they are unsatisfied with, and she is not an exception. Nothing is so terrible that she keeps it for future amusement, though. Through her rummaging she discovers a soft stick of charcoal and a mostly dead sharpie. She zips the charcoal in her pocket for safekeeping. Mal knows just what to do with the sharpie. She saunters over to the whiteboard and attempts her best depiction of a dick in the top corner. The click of the cap finding its home sounds through the small room. Mal decides now is as good of a time as any to take a bathroom break. She returns to the cushy chair and retrieves her sketchbook. There is no way she is letting that sit in the lounge unattended.

Her trip to the bathroom inspires some more shenanigans. The brilliant idea to lock all of the bathroom stall doors comes to her while she's peeing. Although it is a bit of an awkward climb over the top to get back out, Mal is pleased with her meddling when all is said and done. She washes and dries her hands, grabs her sketchbook off of the counter, and returns to the lounge.

It has been forty-two minutes since Carlos' Modern Fashion and Design class started. Mal knows this because her eyes are trained on the clock and not where she is walking. She nearly trips over her own feet when she realizes there is a blur of blue out of place in the room. Her feet quickly bring her to her usual chair, and she automatically turns to sit on it. As she quickly becomes enveloped in it she realizes perhaps a change of seating would have complimented her ego better. A chance glance towards the blue-haired girl tells her she looks as ridiculous as she feels. She buries her face in her open sketchbook to hide her pink cheeks. Soon after, she remembers that most people draw in sketchbooks, not stare at them for prolonged lengths of time. It is a book, but not a book-book. Her pale fingers find the stick of charcoal from earlier in her pockets, and green eyes bounce around searching for things to draw.

Thankfully, the blue-haired girl now seems to be entertained enough with her cellphone.

Mal does not really decide to start drawing her; it just kind of happens. She quickly sketches in the general contours of the girl's body before moving on to details. Faces are difficult, so she starts at the bottom and works her way up. She soon discovers that the girl's outfit is actually quite elaborate. It is easy to lose herself in trying to replicate the way the material folds and how the trinkets capture the light. Once she is fairly satisfied with the depiction of the girl's body she moves on to the head. Mal studies the way the girl's hair flows and the shapes contained in a fine braid near the top of blue hair. Her charcoal scratches softly against the paper as she finishes up the nose next. Mal's mouth drops open a bit while she studies the girl's enticingly red lips just a little too long. That was enough time to gauge all the details, right? She shakes her head to clear it before drawing in the lips, wishing she had a color other than black to work with. Her heart stops when her gaze flicks up to the girl's eyes only to find them already looking into hers. The heat rises in her cheeks, and she prepares to be called out for her admittedly creepy behavior.

All that comes is a knowing smile. The blue-haired girl suddenly rises, smoothing out her blue skirt. Mal's heartbeat pounds in her ears as the girl approaches her, only to abruptly take a turn and leave the lounge.

A release of somewhere between a sigh and a laugh escapes Mal's lips. She decides to finish the drawing. It is not like she could forget the intensity of the girl's unique red-brown eyes boring into hers anyway. After placing the last detail, Mal admires her work-the proportions, the detailed shading, the charcoal all over her hands...shit. She suddenly remembers why she sticks to graphite. She does not even want to think about how much time she is going to spend getting the black dust out of her jacket pocket. The offending object clatters onto the ledge of the whiteboard, and Mal grabs her sketchbook with her clean...er hand.

The bathroom door creaks a little as Mal leans her hips into it. As soon as she rounds the corner, her jaw and fingers go slack. The sound of her sketchbook smacking against the tile is painfully loud in the otherwise silent room. In hindsight, she should have noticed the blue hair first. I mean, Mal knows more than most people that bright hair colors do not exactly blend in. But can you blame her for being distracted by the two round ass cheeks unexpectedly blocking her path? The tan skin is practically glowing in the dim lighting, and Mal is a moth to the flame.

Her eyes travel down long legs to find them ending in a pile of leather and blue tulle. Oh no. As if ogling the girl with her clothes on was bad enough. Through the sudden, deafening pounding in her ears, Mal realizes the other girl had spoken to her. Green eyes race to the mirror, which ends up being a bad idea. If she thought the sight of the girl's sculpted backside was distracting, she was wholly unprepared to meet the reflection of the front of her body.

Her first attempt at a reply comes out as merely a squeak. When did her mouth get so dry? She clears her throat and tries again. "What?" she asked dumbly, unable to tear her eyes away.

"I said," the girl stresses, voice much lower and raspier than Mal would have guessed. "Take a life drawing class, and you can stare at me all you want." Red-brown eyes finally glance up and into the mirror, expecting green but finding Mal's hazy gaze lower instead.

At a soft laugh, the purple-haired girl finally registers that she has been caught, and her face goes from stark white to rosy in color.

The blue-haired girl trades a reflection for the real thing, and Mal anchors her eyes into the other girl's, where it is the least likely to get her in trouble. She feels utterly exposed even though she is fully clothed as red-brown orbs rake over her own body. She bites her lip at the scrutiny until the blue-haired girl is bending down - good lord - and retrieves the fallen sketchbook.

Instead of giving it back, the blue-haired girl takes nimble fingers and flips through it, starting from the back. Mal stammers uselessly in protest, but all she is met with is a raised eyebrow. Finally, white turns to blacks and greys as the blue-haired girl finds what she is looking for.

Mal ducks her head and scurries to the sink, giving the girl a wide berth as she passes her. Her hands burn a little as she scrubs furiously at them, trying to remove the pesky charcoal.

"The head is a little too big, and the legs are a little truncated, but those are common mistakes," the blue-haired girl assesses.

The water is staring to run more clearly under Mal's hands. She swears she is having a heart attack for the umpteenth time today as hot breath envelopes her ear.

"You're talented," it says, and Mal glances up to find the matching eyes trained on her lips. The girl is so close Mal can feel the heat radiating off of her body even through her leather jacket. "Your shading is impressive, and you have an eye for detail that most people could only wish they possessed," she continues.

"Thanks," Mal replies earnestly, turning off the water.

"No problem," the blue-haired girl replies easily, handing Mal a sheet of paper towel.

Once her hands are sufficiently dry, Mal crumples up the towel and promptly throws it in the direction of the garbage can. Incredibly, it finds its home with a satisfying swish. The corners of her lips curl upwards, and she mentally pats herself on the back for redeeming some of her cool status.

The blue-haired girl smiles at the ground before extending her sketchbook-wielding hand towards the other girl. "I'm Evie, life drawing model for the next two weeks," she introduces.

Mal's eyebrows shoot up as she limply grasps her sketchbook. Really, she should have seen that coming. "Mal," she replies.

"Woman of many talents," Evie husks, eyes boring into Mal's and red lips quirked up in a smirk.

Pink is quickly becoming a recurring color on Mal it seems.

"I'd apologize for surprising you out here, but the look on your face was definitely worth it," Evie laughs, moving to collect her clothing from the floor.

"I don't doubt that," Mal scoffs, managing to make light of her embarrassment.

"I was intending to change in the stall like a perfectly respectable woman, but they all seem to be mysteriously locked," Evie says, straightening, with her clothing in her arms.

Mal cannot help the chuckle that escapes her lips.

Evie quirks an eyebrow. "You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" She inquires, looking at Mal pointedly.

"Not at all," Mal replies, still smiling.

Evie holds her gaze for a while before her eyes suddenly go wider and break the vibe. "Shit. Um, are you busy?" She asks in a slight panic.

"Not particularly," Mal replies, casually leaning against the cold wall.

"Could you go to the drawing studio and get me a robe? I totally forgot one!" Evie inquires, biting her lip.

Mal decides to spare Evie some teasing, considering she looks pretty frazzled compared to her previously composed demeanor.

"Uh, sure. I'll be right back," Mal replies quickly, offering the girl a small smile.

Her action is mirrored by Evie, who thanks her genuinely as she leaves the bathroom.

The walk to the drawing studio is not far, really only a few strides. There are already a few students in the room, preparing their easels, when Mal arrives. Looks that vary from blatant confusion and disapproval to wanting gazes are cast at the purple-haired girl, who is obviously not a regular feature of the classroom. Thankfully, she quickly locates the hangers in the back of the studio adorned with aprons, smocks, and robes. She selects the cleanest looking one and quickly makes her way out of the studio, eyes on the ground.

The bathroom door squeaks a little as she pushes it open. "Forgetting your robe -that's a total rookie move. You new to this?" she asks coolly, tossing the garment.

Evie's cheeks grow in pink color as she effortlessly catches it.

"First time in front of a class, yeah," she replies, shifting her weight to her other foot as she quickly slips the robe on and ties it.

"That implies you've done it outside of a class," Mal states rather than asks. To that, Evie's confidence returns.

"Once or twice," she rasps, smirking.

Mal cannot resist letting her mind wander.

"I tell you what," Evie starts, stepping even closer to the purple-haired girl. "If you watch my clothes for me while I'm in class for the next couple weeks I'll give you a private session for free," she finishes, red-brown eyes challenging green.

Mal nearly chokes on absolutely nothing. It takes her mind a few moments to register that Evie is talking about a life drawing session, but the idea remains tempting.

"It's just that most of my clothes are custom made, and I've had things stolen before" Evie adds, fluttering her eyelashes, which Mal now realizes are blue like the girl's hair.

"Uh yeah-sure-no problem", Mal stammers to Evie's lips, which are now so close that she can faintly smell the gloss. Apple cinnamon, if her nose does not deceive her. She wonders if it tastes as good as it smells...

"Thank you so much; you're a life-saver!" Evie replies with a blinding smile. Before Mal knows it, she is being enveloped in a hug. She is not sure she is thankful or disappointed that Evie is now wearing the robe. "I'll see you in two hours!" she calls back, hurrying out of the bathroom. The bang of the door closing echoes across the walls.

Mal stands there for a moment, holding the pile of clothes and staring at the door. Then she reluctantly makes her way back to the lounge. The halls are much busier now, and students scurry to and from various classrooms. She is nearly to the lounge when a hand on her shoulder stops her in her tracks.

"You lived!" Carlos exclaims triumphantly. Mal rolls her eyes, but a smile escapes nonetheless. "Find something to entertain yourself with?" he asks innocently, eying the clothing in her hands with confusion.

Mal's cheeks darken, and her smile morphs into a smirk. "You could say that," she replies.

"Ready to go home?" he inquires, eyebrows lifted.

To that, Mal's face becomes regretful. "Uh, I actually have something to do now, but I'll be home in a couple hours," she says hesitantly.

To say Carlos is surprised would be an understatement. "Are you kidding me?" he asks pointedly. The look on Mal's face tells him she is not. "Alright," he sighs "have fun 'melting' on the walk home," he finishes, emphasizing her previous words with air quotes.

Mal groans as Carlos begins the descent down the stairwell. Her feet shuffle against the tile as she makes her way to the comfy chair in the lounge.

To pass the time, Mal replays her afternoon in her head. As she recalls Evie's last words to her she realizes what she has gotten herself into. Two hours. Two more hours of complete and utter boredom. She sighs dramatically and gazes down at the clothes. The edge of a lace bra, the same shade as Evie's hair, pokes out of the mess. Well, it is not so bad, she concludes.

Before long, the comfort of the chair and the exhaustion of the day become too much for Mal. Her head becomes heavy and her eyelids fall closed. It feels as though no time at all has passed when her peaceful quiet is suddenly interrupted.

"Mal, wake up!"

Red-brown eyes are gazing into hers with a tint of amusement.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," Evie greets with a smile. Mal sits there, cheeks flushed and mouth agape.

She takes in the other girl's appearance, composed and fully clothed.

"Thank you for watching my stuff for me, although I don't know how efficient a guard is while they're sleeping," she says with a smirk.

"People generally stay away from me," Mal answers, voice still gravelly from sleep. Evie looks unconvinced. "They're scared," the artist elaborates.

"Mm," Evie hums with a nod. "You know what scares me?" she asks quietly, features expressionless.

"What?" Mal asks, genuinely wondering.

"That" Evie whispers, eyes flicking to Mal's doodle on the chalkboard from earlier.

The artist follows her gaze.

Evie's façade cracks as soon as Mal barks out a laugh. Even as the laughter in the room dies out, smiles remain. "So, I'll see you on Wednesday then?" Evie asks, biting her lip despite herself.

Mal's smile grows even wider at the prospect of the model being even a little nervous around her. "Of course," she replies easily.

As soon as the door is unlocked, Mal stumbles through it and collapses onto the floor. It is strikingly cold in comparison to the air, but that is just what she needs. Her eyes close and her chest rises and falls, attempting to gather as much cool air as possible. If her muscles were not so exhausted, she would peel off her now-soaked clothes and lay there naked, not caring if Carlos was home. But as Mal lays on the floor, in desperate need of a shower and a nap, she cannot help but think back on her day. It ended up being pretty great.


	2. Chapter 2

"So why do you need the dorm to yourself tonight again?" Carlos asks, sprawled out on the couch.

Mal sighs in annoyance and continues picking up various items from the floor and adding them to her garbage bag. "I've told you five hundred times, Carlos, I have a friend coming over," she growls.

Her attitude does not phase the boy, who has had way too much fun bothering her about the situation. "Yeah but I'm already here, and I know you don't want to get Jay alone," he chuckles.

"No, that would be you," Mal mutters.

His cheeks redden, but he does not deny the fact. "It's just that, no offense Mal, but you don't really have other friends," he states.

Mal scurries around the room, eyes scanning the floor for any more trash or old food that she might have missed.

"At least, any that wouldn't be afraid to be stuck in a small room with you," Carlos adds thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowing.

Mal stops and considers his words. She shrugs as she finds them to be true; most of her acquaintances on campus are a bit...flighty.

Carlos' expression suddenly brightens. "It's Ben, isn't it?!" he yells.

A scoff erupts from the girl.

He claps his hands together victoriously. "He sees straight through your bad girl front, and he's always talking to you," he says, words getting increasingly faster.

"No, Carlos, no! It's not Ben, okay; I've already told you. I'm not interested in Mr. Nice Guy," she scowls.

Carlos stills, and Mal can tell by the look on his face that he is over-analyzing her words. "What about Mr. Nice Girl?" he prods.

Red creeps up Mal's face. "Carlos, that doesn't even make sense!" she counters, voice wavering. Her eyes quickly search the room for more stuff to clean, her feet taking her nowhere in particular.

Carlos turns around on the couch, hands perched on the top cushion. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning as he laughs triumphantly.

Mal quickly heads to the front door. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" she shouts from outside. "She'll be here any minute, and if you're still here by then, you're going to regret it!". She emerges from the doorway, hands now empty, and closes the door.

"I think I'll regret missing you make a fool of yourself in front of her more" he laughs.

"Thanks for the confidence booster," she deadpans, picking up the nearest pillow and throwing it in his general direction.

Carlos' giggling simply increases.

"God, you're such a girl," she mumbles.

"So," he drawls, gazing at his roommate expectantly.

Mal crosses her arms. "So, what?"

"Who is she?!" he asks, arms flying into the air.

Mal chews on her bottom lip, and suddenly her shoes are quite interesting to her.

"You know I'm just going to keep bothering you until you tell me," he says matter-of-factly.

His roommate sighs in defeat. "It's Evie," she mumbles, barely audible.

Carlos must have dog-like hearing, however, because he repeats the name in a much louder, incredulous manner. "As in hot-life-drawing-model Evie?!" he yells, wide grin overtaking his features.

"Keep it down!" Mal scolds, shifting her body weight. "Yes, that Evie." The look of utter shock on Carlos' face is almost insulting. "It's not like that's a common name," she adds.

"Mal, she's all everyone's been talking about for the past two weeks,"

"I don't doubt that," Mal says, allowing a knowing smirk to make an appearance. Truthfully, the model was the star of Mal's thoughts ever since she had met her. It did not help that the girl was quickly becoming a recurring feature of her dreams. Dreams that left concentration on other things, like schoolwork, quite difficult. The artist's musings are interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

Brown eyes lock with green for a moment before utter chaos erupts. Carlos leaps over the side of the couch with ease, and Mal opts to scramble around it. The boy arrives at the door with Mal closely behind him. They both reach for the handle, using their arms to try to deter their opponent. Carlos eventually frees his hand and uses it to shove Mal onto the adjacent love seat. She lands on the cushions with a squeak. The doorknob turns, and Carlos is met with a blue-haired beauty.

Her expression shifts from excitement, to surprise, to worry. "Oh my god, this is so embarrassing, I must have the wrong dorm," Evie rambles through a bright smile. A flash of recognition then crosses her features. "Hey! You're in Modern Fashion and Design, right?" she inquires.

Carlos nods with a smile.

"I actually really wanted to take that, but, you know, I can't model and be a student at the same place," she continues, chuckling a little less nervously.

Before the boy can respond, he is forcefully being yanked out of Evie's visual field and replaced with Mal. A dull thud sounds through the room as Carlos' body collides with the unforgiving laminate.

"Hey, no, you're at the right place," Mal greets breathlessly. "That's just my roommate, Carlos, but he'll be going now," she stresses through gritted teeth, more to the boy than anyone else.

Carlos manages to collect himself off the floor and playfully glares at his roommate.

Evie's eyebrows raise. "Oh, I hope you're not leaving because of me!" She exclaims politely.

Carlos speaks up. "Actually, I am. Mal-" but another pointed shove to his back cuts him off and has him stumbling down the walkway.

Mal smiles nervously at the confused model before dramatically gesturing into the room. "Please, come in," she insists.

Evie obeys, and the door slams behind her. Mal lets out a breath she had been holding and stands there awkwardly.

Evie smiles at her expectantly. "So, where do you want to do it?" Evie asks, voice a little too low to be innocent.

Everywhere, Mal thinks, mouth going dry.

"The life drawing session," Evie elaborates.

Mal can feel her face heat up, and her hands fidget at her sides.

Evie cannot help the smile that creeps across her face at the sight.

"Right, uh, yeah," Mal stammers, hand scratching the back of her neck. "We can do it in my room" she rambles. "T-the life drawing session!"

A husky laugh sounds in the room. "Lead the way!"

It is the cleanest Mal's room has been in years - perhaps ever. She beams with pride at the sight of her floor, which is normally buried under art supplies, clothes, and take out boxes. It took her longer than she would care to admit to get it to this state. "Here we are," she announces.

Evie arrives shortly after her, and nods approvingly at the room. It is rather dark and small, but Evie can easily picture the artist spending a lot of time in it.

"You can, uh, put your stuff here," Mal says, vaguely waving in the direction of a side table oddly devoid of any accessories.

The trinkets on Evie's boots jingle as she makes her way to it and drops off her purse.

Mal remains still near the doorway. "Um, I'll get my stuff. You can change in the bathroom; it's right around the corner," she offers.

Evie hums in acknowledgment.

The artist approaches the door containing her supplies, and silently curses herself when she remembers that most of the clutter previously occupying her floor is now haphazardly thrown into the closet. She tries to steady a tower of junk when she pries open the door, and she awkwardly bends down to retrieve her art supply case at the same time. Finally, she has her stuff, and the closet is successfully closed once more. The second she turns around she is hit with déjà vu.

To say the sound of her art supply case hitting the floor is loud is an understatement. To make matters worse, many of its contents are now scattered around her previously tidy floor. It appears as though Evie took the time Mal was wrestling with her closet to undress, not bothering to use the privacy of the bathroom.

"You are quite the butterfingers," Evie laughs, bending down to assist in the cleanup.

Mal squeezes her eyes closed and tries not to stare. "Only around you," she admits before realizing how it sounds. Too late now. By the smile adorning the model, Mal can tell the girl is enjoying this way too much. Between the two of them working, it does not take long before all the supplies are back in their case, much more organized than previous to the catastrophe. "Thanks," the artist says earnestly.

"No problem," Evie replies. "How do you want me?" she asks, voice suddenly much deeper.

Mal instantly fumbles with her sketchbook and coughs. "Anything is fine," she squeaks, eyes trained on the paper in front of her.

Evie's grin is back in place. "Alright, how about we do some quick five minute poses first then move on to longer ones," she suggests.

Purple hair bounces as Mal nods her head.

"Mind if I put on some music?" the model asks, already walking over to her purse and pulling out a small speaker system.

"Go for it," Mal says, mentally preparing herself for the whole ordeal as best she can. It is not very loud, but as soon as she hears the familiar record scratch she identifies the song as "Humble" by Kendrick Lamar. It is not really the music Mal would imagine the girl listening to, but it suddenly makes her even more intriguing.

Evie glides onto the bed and contorts into a pose Mal is sure is not even physically possible and commands the artist to "Start drawing!"

Mal scrambles and moves her drawing pencil across the page. "How did you even do that?" the artist asks incredulously.

Evie chuckles darkly. "I dance," she explains simply.

The pose gives Mal a great view of ass and side boob, and coupled with the new knowledge of Evie, she desperately tries to keep her focus on the drawing. She is barely done capturing a third of the body when "Humble" is done and "DNA" begins. Something about the music is bringing Mal's recent dreams to the front of her mind, and she readjusts her posture, crossing her legs.

It seems like no time has passed at all when Evie tells her to stop drawing. Mal looks down at her unfinished drawing with disappointment. "Can we, uh, listen to something else?" she croaks. "It's a little...distracting"

Evie hides a wicked grin as she approaches her phone. "Is Fifth Harmony okay?" she asks over her shoulder.

Mal did not know much about the girl group, but truthfully, it seemed like the kind of music that she would rather die than listen to. However, at least it would not catalyze her inappropriate thoughts. "Sure," she says a little too quickly. The high pitched voices emanating from the speakers are singing about hearts beating like sledgehammers, and Mal feels herself quickly identifying with the lyrics even though the music is sickeningly upbeat.

Evie maneuvers herself into another complex pose, and Mal just shakes her head at the sight. "You need to draw faster this time so you can get the whole figure in. Don't worry about getting the details right; just capture the essence of the pose," Evie instructs.

Whatever that means, Mal thinks, but nods her head anyway.

"Start!"

The drawing comes out much sloppier this time, but at least there are not any body parts missing.

Evie glances at it once the pose is over. "Much better! Keep it loose for these short poses; I just want you to get warmed up," she compliments.

Mal wishes she could ignore just how warm she was becoming. The next couple poses are much of the same. Evie hums along to the songs, and Mal even finds her own head bobbing to the beat. Not that she would ever admit it outside of this room. Evie does not examine Mal's sketches, and the time passes quickly.

"Stop!" Evie commands again, and Mal sets down her drawing pencil. Evie informs her that they are finally done with short poses, and Mal takes the time to remove her leather jacket. She does not miss the way Evie eyes the sliver of exposed skin above her pants while she stretches her arms. She might even hold the pose for slightly longer than necessary just to give the model a taste of her own medicine.

Evie suddenly snaps out of her trance, and when her eyes flick up to Mal she finds a smug expression. "Alright, now we're going to move on to a couple half-hour poses. This time I want you to be more serious. Really consider angles and proportions" she says to the floor.

Mal grins and nods, even though Evie cannot see her. The model's pose is much more pedestrian this round, and for that, Mal is thankful. For the most part, the artist stays focused on capturing the sight in front of her, not that she could ever completely do it justice. Evie continues humming, and at times Mal can see the dancer within her trying to emerge through tapping feet.

"I thought life drawing models were supposed to stay still," she teases.

Evie sticks out her tongue at Mal, and the artist barks out a surprised laugh.

"And professional!" she adds with faux concern.

"I'm new to this," Evie reminds her with a shrug and a playful smile.

Mal shakes her head in amusement and continues working. She is not sure how much time passes, but Evie eventually tells her to stop drawing. Both women take the time to stretch after holding poses for so long.

Evie slinks over and perches on the arm of the comfy chair Mal occupies.

The artist trades worrying about the model's critique to concentrating on the heat radiating from her body. The increasingly familiar scent of apple cinnamon is making her brain hazy.

"Wonderful work, Mal, you're off to a great start!" Evie encourages. "Try using the negative space to inform your proportions; I think you've made me too thin." Mal's head ducks down, and Evie laughs lightly. "You're not going to offend me, Mal, just draw what you see, not what you think it should look like."

The artist nods mutely, turning her sketchbook to a new page.

Evie gets herself into another pose, this time placing her hands on her hips so there is more negative space for Mal to reference.

After a while, the artist speaks up. "How did you get into modeling?" she asks, almost too quietly to be heard over the music.

A small smile emerges from the model. "Honestly, it started out as a way to get enough money to take a class about fashion; I've been designing and sewing my own clothes for as long as I can remember," she begins.

Mal recalls the complex and fashionable outfits Evie has donned every time she has seen her. Except when she is, you know, nude.

"I left home on my eighteenth birthday, and I've been relying on myself to get by ever since. It's been okay; I usually have a long line of people waiting to commission me for clothes. It's not always enough for extra stuff, but it's better than staying at home with my mom," the model states.

"I don't like my mom either," Mal offers, drawing pencil scratching lightly at the page. "She's always pushing me just a little too far, and her expectations are just so high that I'll always be a disappointment to her," she frowns.

Evie hums in agreement. "My mom was pushy, too - _is_ pushy," she corrects herself. "My whole life she's been grooming me to be the world's best housewife. And even though I loved the sewing lessons and unlimited fabric, I could just never completely measure up. I'm really horrible at cooking," she says, earning a laugh from the artist. "Really, I am!" she stresses, laughing along.

However, her face sobers quickly. "Some days she wouldn't even let me eat, and I'd have to beg my friends to share their snacks. She'd say I was getting too fat, and I needed to look decent or a man would never love me," she said solemnly.

Mal stops drawing, and she feels her heart break a little for the beautiful girl before her.

"But you know what? It didn't matter. Because if you can't love yourself you definitely can't love anybody else. And now that I'm gone, I feel so much better about myself, about life," Evie says sagely. "So I also took up modeling as a big 'screw you' to her," she adds lightly, smile returning. "There's just something about modeling, being a muse and seeing the beautiful art that I inspire...it feels really good," she says, voice serious again.

A soft smile forms on Mal in response, and she finds herself amazed yet again by the girl.

They are on their third and final half-hour pose, and Mal's getting sore at this point. She is working on getting the profile accurate when her hand suddenly moves on its own accord.

Evie had begun to sing, really sing, not just hum. The artist furiously erases her mistake and scolds herself for her dramatic response to the unexpected sound. Although she needs Evie to stay still so she can finish the profile, she can't bring herself to tell her so. Her voice is beautiful, and Mal wonders if it is actually possible for the girl to produce any sort of unappealing noise.

The lyrics are stupid, but amusing, and Mal thinks Evie could make anything sound good. The model finishes up the first chorus and begins the next verse.

"Do you got a girlfriend, 'cause if you don't then I'm coming after you," she sings, and Mal's eyes fly to meet red-brown. Evie shrugs a little as she sings the next verse. "Don't wanna be selfish, but I can't help it; I'm wantin' more of you."

Mal's pencil is long forgotten at this point. She cannot tear away her gaze.

Evie's smile widens "I know I'm cool as shit; you want more of it, this much I know is true."

Mal scoffs with a smile, blush creeping up her face.

"But I wouldn't say that to you," Evie sings, returning to looking at the wall.

Mal grasps her pencil and continues working, still attuned to Evie's voice.

"And now I'm tryin' to find the words to tell you how I feel and show you that it's real. And now I'm trying to find the words..." Evie sings, and Mal recalls the silly, memorable chorus and joins in.

"I don't know what else to say, but you're pretty frickin' dope," she sings along with the model, earning a wide grin. "Just so you know," they continue. Only Evie knows the rest, so she sings solo.

"I've been thinkin' 'bout the ways that I wanna hold you close, just so you know," Evie continues the song's chorus, getting increasingly passionate as she hits the bridge. "What I think about ya, and all the ways that you make me feel; do you know what I think about ya?" she belts, repeating the lyrics along with the singers. She then ends with a softer version of the chorus, and regains composure for her pose. Her pale chest heaves with the effort she just expelled, and Mal cannot prevent the awe from being written all over her face.

"You're incredible," she puts simply.

Evie smiles at the ground. "So are you," she retorts, gazing into green eyes. "You can add singing to your list of many talents."

Mal scoffs "I think your list is longer than mine." Their laughs carry through the room.

"We can find out," Evie suggests with a wink, and Mal blushes at the insinuation. A sudden, steady beeping breaks the tension, and the music ceases to play. It is too quiet.

"Time's up," Evie needlessly points out, and Mal's lower lip juts out on its own accord. "I'm going to put some clothes on," the model announces regretfully.

Mal nods and turns around, placing her sketchbook on her chair.

Evie carefully disassembles her speaker system and places the lot back in her purse. She then begins replacing her clothing onto her body, one at a time. She had gone with something simple this time so it would not take so long. You know, because she did not want to inconvenience Mal. In the...drawing session. As soon as her boots are zipped, and she turns around, there is a wad of cash in her face and matching green eyes behind it.

"No," Evie states.

"Evie, please take it,"

"No, Mal, it's not happening,"

"Come on, Evie, please! I want to help you get into that class!" Mal protests, but Evie gently grasps her wrists and steadies her.

"No, Mal. I'm here because I want to be. I want to see you grow as an artist, and I want to spend time with you as your friend," the model insists, eyes boring into the artist's.

Mal's heartbeat increases at the second reason and the feeling of Evie's thumb striking the inside of her wrist softly. Eventually, she backs down with a small nod.

"In fact, if you don't mind, I'd even like to come over again," Evie adds with a smile.

Mal playfully scoffs at the wording. "Gee, thanks," she says, and Evie lets out a laugh, exchanging Mal's wrists for her cellphone. Mal gets the idea and retrieves her own. They swap devices and enter their information before handing them back. Mal notices two blue heart emojis framing Evie's name; they are even in the model's signature shade of blue. "Oh, wow, Evie, heart emojis? This is all so sudden!" she exclaims in faux surprise, hand covering her heart.

"Shut up," Evie laughs, giving the shorter girl a playful shove. Their laughter fills the otherwise silent little room. Mal heads to the door and twists the knob, motioning for Evie to exit first. "Who said chivalry is dead?" She inquires, bowing her head in thanks before passing through and heading into the living room.

Neither girl knows what to say, so they just enjoy each other's company while they can. After a while, Mal speaks up. "You can stay," she offers, quiet in volume but bold with suggestion.

Red-brown eyes swim with regret. "I'd love to, Mal, but I have to meet a customer about a commission in a little while," she says.

Mal's face falls. "Oh, okay, yeah, go make that mon-" but her comment is silenced with soft, red lips. The first thing she realizes, after the initial heart attack accompanying 'oh my god, she's kissing me', is that Evie's lips do not, in fact, taste like apple cinnamon. One thing her dreams did get right, however, is the effect the model's affection has on her. Mal would be pretty sure she was having an out-of-body experience if not for the fluttering in her chest, grounding her. A fleeting swipe of tongue on her lower lip has her wanting more, but Evie pulls away with a sly smile. Mal remains still, trying to memorize the feeling of the model's lips on hers.

"See you soon," Evie husks, and the artist just nods, incapable of speech.

She remains that way until the door clicks back into place, and the dorm is quiet once more. Then, a wide smile creeps across her face.

Mal's boots clunk along the stairs as she retraces her steps back up into her room. Once inside, she flops down onto her bed, arms extended. Her hand collides with something uncharacteristically scratchy, and she leans up to examine the foreign object. Blue lace greets her, and the artist's cheeks blush furiously. This girl is going to be the death of her.

As soon as she hears the door open, Mal flies out of her room and down the stairs.

Carlos barely has time to close the door when he spots his roommate. Brown eyes widen in shock, and a tinge of fear, as the purple-haired girl approaches him with determination.

"What's the password for your school account?!" she shouts, even though she has not left much space between them.

Carlos instinctively takes a step back. "W-what? Mal, I'm not telling you my pass-" he attempts, but tiny pale hands ball into his jacket.

"What. Is. Your. Password," Mal tries again, and Carlos swears her eyes are glowing.

"It's the same password I use for-" he starts, but he hass already been released. "Everything," he finishes, watching his roommate disappear into the hallway. By the time he makes it to her room, he stops in his tracks. "Damn, Mal!" he exclaims, scanning the room. "You picked everything up!" he congratulates with a proud smile.

Mal scoffs from behind the screen of her laptop.

"Well, not everything..." he adds uneasily, and Mal follows his gaze to the stray panties on her bed.

"Those aren't mine," she comments offhandedly, returning to her urgent work. The glance she caught of his face beforehand informs her she probably should not have said that. She is too focused to worry about it now, however.

Carlos shakes the intrusive thoughts out of his head and walks over to the side of the chair Mal occupies. She is on the page for his Modern Fashion and Design class, and there is a plethora of downloads pending. He does not even have to ask. "This is for Evie," he says, more of a statement than a question.

"Yep," Mal confirms, busy organizing the newly downloaded PowerPoints and articles into her computer.

"You know," he starts, "you could probably get in trouble for this."

"You mean you?" she comments, pointing to the top of the screen that reads 'Hello, Carlos!'.

"Mal!" he yells, raking his hands through his hair.

"Chill, no one's going to find out," she insists, looking down at the screen in satisfaction.

The boy shakes his head and heads for the doorway. "I'm leaving," he announces.

"I don't care!" she replies loudly.

"You have lipstick on your face!" he shouts from the hallway.

Mal only laughs in reply.

Mal can hear the door open again, and she lets out a sigh. "I'm not falling for it this time!" she shouts from her bed. Carlos had been faking her out all morning. Every time he so much as turned the door handle, Mal came scrambling into the room, eyes searching for blue. She had repeated the reaction so many times that Carlos had tears streaming down his cheeks at one point. Fed up with the teasing, Mal had retreated to her room.

After waiting for some kind of acknowledgement, and not receiving any, Mal's curiosity got the best of her. She tiptoed to her doorway and strained her ears. An excited squeal, too girly even for Carlos, cut through the air. She is fumbling down the steps in no time, nearly falling towards the end.

Evie's amused face is peeking over Carlos' shoulder in the distance. The boy does not pay his roommate any mind because his attention is firmly held by his new leather jacket. He rants and raves about his new garment, and Evie's face swells with pride.

Mal restrains her urge to take the girl for herself until Carlos appears finished with the transaction.

The model spouts one last goodbye to Carlos before she slinks over to Mal. Her eyes rake over the purple-haired girl's body appreciatively. The tips of Mal's ears turn red, but she appears pleased otherwise. Before Evie can greet the girl, she finds herself being pulled up the staircase by her hand. The model uncharacteristically squeaks as she attempts to keep up with the overzealous artist in heels.

Once they cross the doorway into Mal's 'cave', as Evie had come to call it, her hand is released. She cannot help but miss the contact.

Mal practically leaps onto her bed and grabs a binder of the same blue as Evie's hair from her bedside table. Her face looks like it might split in half from how wide she is smiling, and Evie finds herself mirroring the expression. The artist pats the space next to her on her bed, and Evie sets her purse down on the now vacant table and takes a seat. Once she is settled, Mal shoves the binder into her lap, practically vibrating with anticipation.

Evie's eyebrow raises.

"Open it!" the artist urges.

So she does. As she flips through the pages, Evie gathers a lot of text coupled with diagrams and images of various clothing items. The phrase 'Modern Fashion and Design 301' titles the top of most sheets of paper.

"You wouldn't let me bring you to the class, so I brought the class to you," Mal says beside her.

Evie's vision becomes a little blurry.

"I remembered Carlos saying that his professor always puts his powerpoints, reading materials, and lab sheets on the school accounts, and all students have access to database articles that you otherwise have to pay fo-" Mal's rambling is cut off by two cold hands on her cheeks and warm lips against hers. If this is how Evie plans on shutting her up every time they are together, Mal wouldn't even complain. The kiss is over as soon as it begins, but the beaming smile on Evie's face is just as nice.

"Mal, this-this is incredible," she states graciously.

"You're incredible," Mal slips out automatically.

"No, you are," Evie counters playfully.

Mal laughs. "Oh no, we aren't going to be that couple, are we?" she asks. Her jaw immediately goes slack and her cheeks darken at the realization of what escaped her mouth.

Evie just laughs and shakes her head as Mal sputters nervously. "We could be."


End file.
